Same State of Disrepair
by sunglitters
Summary: Maybe, just a little, they were thankful for L and Light and shinigami and Death Notes because otherwise they wouldn't be able to live in the same state of disrepair serenely, side by side. Matsuda/Sayu.


_Same State of Disrepair _

†

Lightning reminded him of a floodlight; it stemmed from such a small source of electricity but lit the skies like the clouds had caught fire. Thunderstorms and Matsuda disagreed with each other; he hated the turbulence and the noise. It had foiled his plans of getting his head down and having a good night's sleep. He squirmed around a little more in the comforter until it was evident no amount fidgeting would help. Matsuda raised himself on to his elbows and almost groaned in annoyance but he then caught sight of Sayu sitting by the window and the sound melted in his throat.

His features softened into an expression of sadness and Matsuda watched his wife unresponsively gaze into the rain. Sweet, sweet Sayu with a troubled soul and unfixable broken heart, there hadn't been a night he didn't wish he could mend her heart. She tried to love him in return, she really did, and a part of her probably did recognize Matsuda as her husband but it wasn't a feeling strong enough to bring her back to him.

And so she left sometimes. It could last for a week or it could last for months. She would stare out the window or at the floor, occasionally, she would cry but her dark eyes would be so barren Matsuda thought she probably wasn't aware of the tears. Those periods of time were the most difficult; Matsuda was constantly interacting with Sayu just so she wouldn't slip into that static but it never changed whether Sayu wanted to fade away or not.

"Sayu?" Matsuda called timidly, praying that the answer was anything but silence. He would have preferred a death threat to the harshness of absolutely nothing.

"Yes, Touta?" she replied and a contained breath rushed out of the police officer; he was relieved. Pulling the covers away from him, he stood and padded over to the woman who looked up at him with eyes that had been stained by age and torment. He remembered that day... when he'd first seen her as a fully grown woman. She had been lovely, she'd settled by Matsuda as a vibrant presence, full of life and naive love.

Sayu had made him feel stupid, unconfident and young but she was the first person that hadn't judged him by that childish outer layer. He knew he wasn't an intelligent man, it was a wonder he'd gotten on to the police force, and he also knew that he and Sayu were ill-fitting and she deserved a lot better. He knew she'd never be healed and he didn't make a dent into recovering her mental stability. He knew one day she'd do something silly and he'd be devastated as much as her mother would be. Most of all, though, he knew she'd never love him like he loved her but what Matsuda did give Sayu was peace and something to call home.

That was enough for him. As long as Sayu was his, he would make do with anything.

"Are you going to come back to bed?" He already knew the response.

"No," she said, moving her left hand to rest it on the windowsill. Matsuda heard a rustle, like the pages of a book, and glanced at Sayu where he noticed the pile of papers in her lap. His brow furrowed in confusion until the red letters that spelled _confidential _caught his eye-line and his question was answered.

"You didn't...," he trailed off.

"I did," Sayu countered, she didn't even attempt to look sorry or regretful. Her head inclined towards Matsuda when he took the files, her hair sweeping across her forehead. Matsuda understood but that didn't mean he approved.

"Sayu, these files are off limits to you! I'll get into loads of trouble," he whined.

"I had to know, Touta, I needed to see," Sayu sighed, brown irises were focused on him and he relented under the direct attention with a yielding smile. She didn't smile back.

Matsuda flipped through the files, not that he needed to, he knew exactly what file this was and he'd seen it once before. The Kira case. All accounted for by Near, the detective that had replaced L. Near never came to visit them after that day in the warehouse and Matsuda was glad of it, he hoped he never saw that boy again.

Sometimes Matsuda didn't believe he had ever helped on the Kira case, now he was so desensitized and dissociated from it. Like a horrible nightmare, he'd been there but it hadn't been real.

There were many pictures of Light Yagami throughout the file and even a grainy, poor quality photograph of Ryuuzaki. Those eyes looked no more alive on the image than they ever had been; Matsuda picked it up and held it against the splattering of light from the moon, refracted by the rain. He'd met this man, this renowned super detective and now everything related to working alongside him was an insignificant piece of history that had left scars and fear. Sayu gently took the picture and inspected it without any emotion.

"Tell me about my brother."

Sayu hadn't said his name since his death, not once. Matsuda cringed at the request. _Please don't make me talk about __**him**__._

"I didn't really know Light, I doubt anyone did. He was hiding a lot, I used to think he was a pretty nice guy but I guess you should never judge a book by its cover," Matsuda blurted, the pressure of the daunting question clouded his cautiousness around the subject. There had been so many occurrences when Matsuda had said the wrong thing, the worst cases were when Sayu was particularly sensitive to 'taboo' words such as 'Light' or 'Kira'.

"I didn't know him either, I only thought I did," Sayu let out a hollow laugh that grated against Matsuda in a way that out of tune keys on a piano would.

"It's strange, someone so seemingly normal and beautiful hiding such an ugly monster on the inside, it's almost like they're separate people," his wife uttered gauzily, a flash of anger in her eyes. Matsuda was deeply frightened of that anger because... it reminded him of Light, they were related after all, it made sense they shared habits and living with Sayu highlighted all of the similar tendencies. It was the anger that rendered him unable to look at Sayu though. She was no different however, some days she didn't speak to Matsuda because of what he represented – the murder of her brother, no matter how many wrongs he'd committed he was still her brother and he had shot him to death.

The sound of those bullets, unsurprisingly, haunted Matsuda but that didn't wake him up screaming in the middle of the night. It was the look Light had given him, the hatred, for him and for mankind. The madness and rage there, it begged the question how no one had seen it in Light except from L.

Lightning struck like a whip crack once more, the clamour of thunder dislodging something in Matsuda even further though tranquillity crossed over Sayu's face at the racket, at the distraction. They were different and incurable, both victims of a boy with unachievable, harmful dreams and everything that had circulated around him but maybe, just a little, they were thankful for L and Light and shinigami and Death Notes because otherwise they wouldn't be able to live in the same state of disrepair serenely, side by side.

†

_I can't sleep, no, not like I used to,_

_I can't breathe, in and out like I need to._

_It's breaking ice, now, to make any movement,_

_What's your vice?_

_You know that mine's the illusion._

_**Goodbye, Apathy by OneRepublic**_


End file.
